Fall From Grace
by rebeldiamondsx
Summary: Hermione isn't as innocent as she seems... in more ways than one. One-shot.


**Fall From Grace**

_A/N: This is a one-shot, and it's likely to stay that way. Beware of language, smut, _

_and what I hope is a twist at the end._

--

_You know I am your worst nightmare, oh, you love my bloody kiss._

_--_"Tie Her Down" Senses Fail

Hermione Granger stared at the forest green ceiling, blinking when the unlit silver chandeliers began to swing back and forth from the wind coming through the windows.

She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. _Jet lag_, she thought. _Well, more like time-turner lag. _She rose out of her bed, slipping on a pair of shoes and using her wand to change herself into a plain black button-down, dark jeans, and a cloak. She placed her wand and the invisibility cloak she nicked from Harry in the inside pockets of the cloak and set off. She passed through the common room and made her way out of the Hogwarts dungeons, eventually making her way to the Black Lake.

However, the minute she stepped onto the soft grass surrounding the Lake, she heard a voice that made her jump in surprise.

"Up so late, Hermione? And wandering around the castle by yourself... you never know who could be lurking in the shadows."

Behind her stood the Head Boy, smug smirk and piercing green eyes. She knew he saw her jump.

"I could say the same for you, Tom; although your concern for my wellbeing is touching."

She whirled around to face him, her movements screaming defiance and defensiveness. Somewhere in her mind, the start of a plan began.

"Aren't you the little spitfire?" he said, his tone patronizing and sarcastic.

She took two steps closer, so they were now only an arm's length apart. Hermione began to slowly walk around him, circling closer and closer, hand dangerously close to her wand.

"I wonder why they made _you_ Head Boy-- of course, you've got all that's needed for the job: handsome, girls flocking all over you, most brilliant student in the school, a Prefect, polite, charming... but I wonder if meeting with your little Death Eaters is a required extracurricular activity? Do they notice how _interested _you are in the Dark Arts?"

Her breath was blowing hot on his neck now, her tone as biting as his was.

"Bitch," he hissed. "You've got nerve... how many Slytherins have you told that you're a Mudblood?"

He pushed her into a tree, placing his hands at both sides of it, effectively blocking her escape.

"How many have you told that you're a half-blood?" This was too intimate, they were too close... she was sure he could hear her heatbeat pounding away.

His eyes were filled with what looked like rage, yet...

"You're such a fucking _Slytherin_, Mudblood..."

She glared at him, and he leaned down and captured her lips with his own. His kiss was demanding and lust-filled, their tongues fought for dominance as she wove her hands through his hair.

"Fuck you, Riddle," she whispered hoarsely, "you bastard." She tried to pull herself away from his tight grip around her waist, but found she couldn't.

"Yes, you will fuck me."

"I hate you."

"You're not fooling anyone, Hermione."

His hands traveled down to the button of her shirt, undoing each one tantalizingly slowly. Each place he touched her radiated waves of heat.

"No, no, stop."

Tom stared her down. "Do you _really_ want me to, Hermione? Because I know and you know that you fucking like it. I _will_ take what is mine..." his voice lowered and he whispered in her ear, "and you _are_ mine."

She stared up at the future Dark Lord, the way his eyes bored into her, his skin pale and his hair in the moonlight, and she knew she had to win this twisted game.

"Damn, you can't resist _temptation_, can you, _Tom _Marvolo _Riddle_?" she whispered huskily, licking the shell of his ear. He shivered beneath her touch. "You can't bear not to have what you think is yours..."

With a growl, he ripped her shirt off her body and kissed her roughly. "You _are _mine, Granger. Never forget it."

She tossed his shirt aside as he ripped down her jeans. Tom unbuttoned his pants and took off his boxers, letting them fall to the ground beneath them.

Somewhere in the back of her head, a voice that sounded eerily like Ron screamed _You're about to fuck the Dark Lord, Hermione! What the hell are you doing?!_

She now stood in only her underwear before the man who would become Voldemort. But the way he was eying her hungrily... she didn't care.

"Take them off, Hermione." It was an order, not a request, but it was one she was willing to follow.

"It's not going to be gentle, and it's not going to be slow." With those words, he plunges into her.

With each hard thrust she can feel herself tightening around him, bringing her closer to the brink...

Closer...

Closer...

Closer...

They scream in the throws of their ecstasy, she mutters words he does not hear.

_Now._

Pressing the wand into his chest, she murmurs a soft "I love you" followed by a flash of green light, leaving empty eyes.

_You're such a fucking Slytherin, Mudblood._


End file.
